


A Well-Deserved Peace

by LukeVonCastiel



Category: Guild Wars, Guild Wars 2
Genre: Afterlife, Bittersweet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukeVonCastiel/pseuds/LukeVonCastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trahearne pays the ultimate price to see his Wyld Hunt completed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Well-Deserved Peace

The sounds of battle permeated the air, screaming and shouting mingled the clang of steel and explosions of magic. The air smelt of sweet sickness, the scents of blood and corruption hanging heavily in the room. The corpse of the Sovereign Eye lay in a shallow pool of water, the spirit of the king that had once resided within it standing at its side.

Trahearne closed his eyes as his senses were assaulted, breathing deeply as sweat poured of his brow. This was the moment. His entire life before this was simply a path, leading to the forked path at which he now stood. Success or failure were his only options.

'No, there is only one option,' he thought, plunging Caladbolg into the waters at his feet. 'I will be successful! I have not come this far just to fail!' The pool rippled and the sword shone, and Trahearne began to recite the words of the ritual as magic flowed through him.

The sounds, scents and sights of battle were washed away as he felt himself standing on the brink. There was only him and Orr itself, a small light surrounded by thick darkness, a tar-like corruption clogging the once clean streams that flowed through the land.

'They shall be cleansed once more.'

His arms out stretched, he felt the pure light spreading out from him and Caladbolg, purifying magic washing through the thick shadows. It was a wave of warmth washing through the cold, a fire burning away the putrefied filth that had grown in the core of the land.

The darkness and shadows were drowned in the light and the pure essence of Orr began to push itself through the corruption, melding perfectly with Trahearne’s own magic. Vine-like tendrils of green and glittering blue rivulets wrapped itself around and through the glowing fire and even as Trahearne felt him grow weaker his heart soared.

'It's beautiful,' he thought, his cheeks wet with tears. The image of Orr green and growing in his Dream, grass and trees stretched tall, rivers and lakes filled with pure water and a wind sweetened by the scent of wildflowers amidst ruins that now seemed glorious rather than desolate.

It was as image he thought he would never see, and yet here at the centre of the source of Orr itself he could see the beginnings of it. Orr as it should have been. Orr as it would now always be.

Trahearne smiled as he wept at the sight before him, so overcome with joy he did not feel the pain as the thick darkness and the stress of the ritual overwhelmed him.

He did not feel his knees give out and his body fail, nor did he see it wither, leaves crinkling and dying rapidly as the last remnants of Orr’s corruption infected him.

It was only when, amidst the faint sounds of cheering he heard the piercing cry of his Commander calling for him did he realise what was happening to him. But by then, it was too late.

'I am sorry I did not tell you how glad I was to have you by my side,' he thought, the faint sensation of sorrow filtering through the light that glowed around him. Then when he opened his eyes once more, he no longer stood in the world of the living.

Instead he looked up at a canopy of light, the ethereal glow of the Pale Tree’s limbs stretching out over a shining lake. A faint mist hang in the air, glittering warm and yellow as Trahearne floated on the water’s surface.

Stepping from the pod to see his Mother for the first time; sleeping among the other Firstborn at her roots; embracing and kissing and loving Riannoc for the first time and many times after; laughing with his brothers and sisters; his first journey into Orr and fear; sorrow and tears and a broken heart as he stood before the first Sylvari grave; rage for Malomedies, pain as he lost dear sisters and brothers to Nightmare; long and lonely trips through ruins; a battle at Claw Island beside a dear friend; his failure in the tombs; the deaths of his soldiers; his final success and the completion of his Wyld Hunt.

He felt the images and sensations flow from him into the pool. Some powerful memories, others small, everyday things. Twenty-five years of knowledge and love and pain distilled down to a mixture of the most powerful and the most trivial.

'That was my life,' he murmured, looking up into the white branches of the Pale Tree. A smile tugged at his lips. 'And I am proud to have lived it. I am glad to have lived it.'

'As am I, my son.'

Hearing his Mother’s voice, he finally pulled himself upright in the water to look around him. Look at the essence of the Dream from which he was born, and into which he now returned his memories.

Instead, his eyes locked with those of another sylvari, sitting at the lake’s edge with a soft smile on his face. His eyes were full of joy and sorrow.

Sorrow for how you must come to this place; Joy to see you standing before me once more.

Not even noticing the pool disappearing from beneath him to be replaced with solid ground, Trahearne stood. Riannoc did the same, his smile never leaving his face. In his hand he held a flower, a bloom native to Lychcroft Mere.

"Y-you.." Trahearne sobbed, tears suddenly streaming down his cheeks before he threw himself at the other sylvari. He laughed as he wept, arms wrapped tightly around the other as he felt the flower being woven into the leaves of his hair. Then strong arms pulled him closer and held him.

"I know I promised I would return to give you that bloom," Riannoc said softly. "This is not the same, but I hope you can forgive me for that."

"There is nothing to forgive, Riannoc," Trahearne said, before taking the other’s face in his hands and kissing him. It was somehow fierce and gentle all at once, passionate and chaste. Neither sylvari tried to understand how. Neither one needed to. Orr was cleansed, evil vanquished, and they were in each other’s arms once more.

Their fears and worries for the world of the living could wait. For this brief moment, they were at peace.

A well-deserved peace.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains a reference to 'Of Trahearne and Caladbolg', but it's incredibly minor so there's no need to read that fic to understand this one.


End file.
